


Aphercotropisms

by 3RatMoon



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post-Winter in Hieron, Pre-Relationship, Secret Samol, Secret Samol 2017, for some lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3RatMoon/pseuds/3RatMoon
Summary: (noun) The response an organism makes as it grows to overcome an obstacle.Three men, each affected by Samothes and by each other in distinct ways, learn how to live with each other. Some parts are easier than others.





	Aphercotropisms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yellow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow/gifts).



> I was SO privileged to be the Secret Samol for @capricioustube on Twitter, the Sorrow Empress Herself. Please enjoy these sad sad boys my friend <3

_Ephrim & Alyosha _

 

If there was one thing Ephrim didn’t expect, it was to see Alyosha again.

It had been months since the strange gaggle of Unstill and refugees from Velas and Rosemerrow and numerous villages in between finally arrived at the Old University. Tents sprung up around the ruins like mushrooms on a fallen tree, and everyone was tripping over each other trying to survive.

Ephrim spent a while working in the makeshift hospital, one of the first places to be given a proper roof once one was found. Everything that happened in the Archives was still very much on his mind, the call to Kingship licking at his heels, but he knew it would take time for things to settle enough for that. For now, he knew how to bind wounds and apply poultices, so he kept himself busy.

That was what he was doing when he turned and saw Alyosha stumble into the healing house with a golden-haired man hanging off his shoulder who made Ephrim’s stomach curdle. Maelgwyn.

What in all of Hieron was Alyosha doing with _him?_ Last time they had seen each other, Ephrim killed him, with good reason, and Alyosha was good as dead himself… But Alyosha looked up at the prince, ashen and shaking, and smiled, and Ephrim knew questions would have to wait.

“He hasn’t eaten,” Alyosha said from the cot he had been directed to.

“Nor have _you,_ from the looks of it,” Ephrim countered. Again, the question of how he was even _alive_ was left unspoken but undeniably present.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Alyosha followed, smiling again, and Ephrim couldn’t tell if the priest was avoiding the subject or just too incoherent to follow a conversation.

Ephrim saw to the both of them for the couple days it took Alyosha to recover. Luckily for the Exarch, it was just a matter of rest and food. In slow moments when he was awake, Ephrim read to him from one of his books, and Alyosha would listen with his eyes closed, basking in the words like they were rays of sunshine.

“Remember when I taught you to read?” Alyosha asked once.

Ephrim paused for a moment, looking at him, but then nodded. “I do. We started traveling together after my powers manifested. Thought it was best to keep new talent together, probably.”

Alyosha smiled. “Very likely. And you were not fond of that, of course.”

“Which I took out on you.”

A laugh. “Yes, but I understood. You were just a child at the time. We were paired together frequently as we were closest in age, but there was still ten years between us. That is quite significant a gap at that age,” Alyosha looked at Ephrim, smiling sadly, “I imagine you were lonely.”

Ephrim could remember that time too easily. Landscapes kept changing, but the grey sky seemed to always stay the same. They were always moving, to the point that he would lay down in camp and still feel the sway of a horse underneath him. His ears rang, a thing he was told was common for people who were part of the Grand Tour. He never was around other children, never really had much of a childhood at all.

“Yeah, I was,” he said.

Alyosha gave him a sympathetic look. “I taught you to read because that was to be expected of your new station in the Creed, but also because I grew up lonely, too, and I wanted to teach you how I survived it.”

Ephrim couldn’t help but smile a little. “That’s very like you. Funny how some things don’t change.”

Alyosha blushed at that, and Ephrim realized with a small thrill that he liked it, but guilt quickly overtook the feeling.

“I tried to go back,” he said, suddenly, “I didn’t want to leave you there, but I couldn’t…”

Alyosha reached out and took his hand, his skin cool, his pale eyes striking but open. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s okay. It was important for be to be there, for a little while.”

Ephrim frowned, but nodded and squeezed Alyosha’s hand. “Okay.”

He never did learn why that was.

 

For a while after Alyosha recovered, he and Maelgwyn were attached at the hip, something Ephrim still didn’t understand. He could see that Alyosha, while caring, was still very much afraid of the other man. Ephrim saw the way he flinched when Maelgwyn made a sudden movement, the way his hand trembled when he held it out for Maelgwyn to take.

Ephrim felt a kind of righteous fury about the whole thing. He didn’t stay close to Alyosha when they went their separate ways, but as high ranking members of the Creed, they still crossed paths sometimes, and Ephrim knew enough about Alyosha’s comings and goings over the years to know that he deserved better. He was _good_ , he always had been, even when his kindness was taken advantage of.

When the both of them were well enough to leave the healing house, Ephrim set up space in his own room for them. The tower where he was situated was poorly patched and cold, but it was better than the tents outside the University. Ephrim wasn’t overly fond of tiptoeing around them when he needed to piss in the middle of the night, but it made him feel better to have them in his sights, Alyosha especially.

One night, Ephrim woke in a cold sweat, feeling the throb of a hand where there no longer was one, like he did more often than he would admit. Still trying to calm his breathing, he sat up to check that he hadn’t woke anyone. Normally, all he saw were the still shadows of Alyosha and Maelgwyn next to him, but this time, Alyosha shifted in the darkness. In the quiet, he heard the man’s breath coming fast, a mumble that sounded like a fearful plea.

In a moment, Ephrim was out of his bed, a blanket dragged on his foot, and he kneeled beside Alyosha, putting a cautious hand on his shoulder. Alyosha startled awake with a small cry, grasping at Ephrim’s sleep clothes with a surprising amount of strength. For a long moment, they just stared at each other as Alyosha slowly came out of the dream, and his eyes finally seemed to focus in on the prince and recognize him.

“Ephrim?”

Ephrim swallowed, rested his other arm against Alyosha’s. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Upon hearing it, Alyosha’s face crumpled in both sadness and relief, and he fell against Ephrim and sobbed. Ephrim held him as he cried freely, shaking and gasping, and he cried a little too, his face buried in Alyosha’s shoulder. He felt weird afterwards, raw and exposed, but when Alyosha sat back and laughed weakly, wiping at his face, Ephrim felt a little better, too.

“I’m not sure I could go back to sleep right away,” Alyosha admitted quietly.

“Me neither,” said Ephrim, “Did you want to walk around the grounds?”

Alyosha glanced behind him, where Maelgwyn was still sleeping, but then he turned back and nodded.

They went out together, dressed hastily and sticking close to each other against the chill of the night. Ephrim was wearing one of Alyosha’s robes, and Alyosha had his arm linked in his. They spoke in hushed tones as they walked past room after room converted into living spaces. People were still up even at the strange hour, either because that was their nature or because they were still adjusting to a life with a sun again, but the two of them still darted around like they were boys again, up past their bedtime. They giggled at the absurdity of it, then the other would try to shush them, making them laugh harder, leaning helplessly on each other. They shared a first kiss there, too, a tentative brush of the lips in the dark. After that, they agreed that it was too cold to stay out, and they hurried quietly back to the room.

Maelgwyn was still asleep when they got back, and they left their shoes and clothes piled on the floor between their beds for fear of waking him. Ephrim was climbing underneath his blankets when he saw Alyosha still standing, looking at him shyly.

“May I,” he started.

Ephrim understood, shifting to open a space for him without a word. Alyosha climbed in under the blankets, and eventually they found a comfortable position for the both of them, hands clasped between them. Ephrim felt warm with Alyosha there– a different warmth, one that came from someone else. When he closed his eyes, he didn’t feel the phantom pain of his hand being consumed by the Heat and the Dark, just the brush of Alyosha’s finger bumping up against his arm as he twitched sleepily.

When Ephrim woke the next morning, groggy, Alyosha was already up, brushing Maelgwyn’s hair and tying it up so they could go to breakfast. The sight made Ephrim’s stomach clench unpleasantly, but when he sat up and stretched, Alyosha looked over at him. Alyosha looked, and he smiled, and it was the same smile he had given the night before, when they walked the grounds together arm in arm.

“Good morning,” Alyosha said.

Ephrim smiled back. “Good morning.”

  


_Ephrim & Maelgwyn _

 

Ephrim didn’t see Maelgwyn smile for a long time. He didn’t think much of it at first. There was who Maelgwyn was before, there was who he was when the two of them met, and there was who Maelgwyn was now. They might as well be different people, so Ephrim tried ( _tried_ being the key term here) to not make any assumptions about what was and wasn’t usual for the newest edition to the camp.

It took Maelgwyn a long time to do much of anything. It was a good month before he got out of bed without direction. Alyosha was the one caring for him for much of that time, despite looking on the verge of collapsing himself. The priest was the one who brought Maelgwyn to the settlement at the University, and he seemed compelled to keep going back to him. Still, after a lot of convincing from Ephrim, Alyosha was able to relinquish his duty to the prince, then to others at the camp. Ephrim was more worried about Alyosha than Maelgwyn, to be honest, but if caring for the man would get Alyosha to rest, he would do it.

Ephrim didn’t tell anyone who Maelgwyn was. It seemed like the best choice.

For a while, it seemed to be going alright. Maelgwyn was sitting up, ate food on his own, and had spoken a couple times. That was easier on Ephrim, who was able to sit and read for a bit while the other man finished his breakfast. He was starting to work more with Rosana and Corsica and other accepted leaders of the camps (a Council of sorts) and meetings were taking up increasing amounts of his schedule. He liked this, he was proud to put his claims as a new King to action, but it was still nice to just sit and dream about dragons and knights for a bit.

“I like that one,” came a voice, startling Ephrim from his thoughts.

When he looked up, Maelgwyn was looking at him. He was more awake than he had been in weeks, but his expression was still close enough to the catatonic that it made Ephrim uneasy.

“This?” he asked, gesturing with his book, still open in his lap.

“Yeah.” Maelgwyn was still looking at him, like he was studying him, and Ephrim hated it in a very animal way, all of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Then, the corners of the other man’s mouth turned up, just a little. “I always wanted to be a hero, too,” he said.

That would have been the wrong thing to say any day, and that day even more so. The peace in the room was shattered with the sound of fire and pressure as Ephrim summoned his Brand. It was bright, bright red, like his hair, colouring the walls around them and cutting Ephrim’s face with stark, blue-green shadows.

“ _You are nothing like me,_ ” he growled.

After that, Ephrim stormed off, and Maelgwyn withdrew again.

Another time, Ephrim found Maelgwyn with his hand around the tail of Alyosha’s braid. The priest was frozen in the act of stepping away from the bed where the other man was seated, and his terrified glance at Ephrim propelled him into action. In a moment, he had his thumb in Maelgwyn’s wrist, pushing him away with his other arm. Maelgwyn released Alyosha’s hair with a cry and fell back, curling in on himself. Alyosha stumbled back, shaking, then fled the room before Ephrim could even reach out for him.

The two of them were quiet for a while, listening to the fading sound of Alyosha’s sandals on the cobblestones. Then, Ephrim turned on Maelgwyn again, forcing his head up to look at him.

“You _will not_ touch anyone like that, least of all him,” he said with a quiet, boiling kind of rage, his fingers digging into Maelgwyn’s jaw.

Maelgwyn didn’t say anything, but the little bit of fear in his eyes was enough for Ephrim to be satisfied. He let him go, and left without another word. It took him an hour to find Alyosha, and the whole time, Ephrim kept running his hand over the stump where his right arm ended, over and over again.

Maelgwyn stopped talking again for a while after that, but he was close to autonomous by then that Ephrim didn’t have to see him if he didn’t want to, and he didn’t for a long time. Alyosha went back sooner, and Ephrim was able to accept that, but he would carry his fear high in his shoulders every time Alyosha went to visit, unable to relax until he saw him again.

Ephrim didn’t talk to Maelgwyn again until almost six months after Alyosha first arrived at the camps with him. The other man had taken up with scavengers and scouts among the refugees, groups that were still hard at work picking through the ruins of the University, looking for supplies and places safe enough to develop into shelter for the refugees that streamed steadily into their camps. Maelgwyn had a skill for organization and leadership (unsurprisingly) which made him useful managing the disparate groups. In the weeks since being more or less elected by the scavengers as their head, he had brought in two assistants and an old mapmaker to file through the scattered records, reports, and old diagrams of the University and turn them into a chart of what structures had and hadn’t been investigated and by whom, what was found, and whether it was structurally sound enough to be converted into living space. This chart not only made it easier for scouting parties to navigate the maze-like ruins, but people stopped accidentally going to places that had already been found and picked through, as well. Maelgwyn’s praise traveled all the way to the Council, where the generally-approved leaders of the camps gathered to speak, and Ephrim was to deliver a project proposal to him.

Delicately.

Ephrim found him in one of the many tents still occupying the land around the ruins of  the University. Maelgwyn likely could have asked for a room for himself and his assistants, but he remained, and Ephrim could see why. Perched on a grassy hill, the scout’s tent had an excellent view of the land surrounding the University. Like a general may overlook a battlefield, Maelgwyn surveyed the ruins with a critical eye while an assistant was taking a scout leader’s report, jotting down notes in a small book.

Ephrim cleared his throat, getting Maelgwyn’s attention. The man turned around, bright and attentive, eyebrows raised, before recognition brought a small smile to his face. It was the most alive Ephrim had ever seen him.

“Oh, good afternoon, Your Highness,” he said, and the comfortable way that those words rolled off his tongue made Ephrim bristle.

“Maelgwyn,” he replied stiffly.

To Ephrim’s surprise, the man looked rightfully embarrassed, coughed uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

Ephrim sighed. “No harm. I’ve come to speak with you, on behalf of the Council.”

Maelgwyn stood more at attention. “Of course. Come walk with me?”

The scout’s tent was once in almost the center of the camp, but as the months went on and more people were able to move into the University, the tents became more and more sparse, and the edge of the camp drew inward until they were almost on their own. Ephrim and Maelgwyn walked together on the grassy hill, the sun setting golden behind them. It was peaceful in a way their time together rarely was, and neither of them wanted to break the quiet for a while.

Eventually, though, Ephrim sighed again, and asked, “How are you?”

Maelgwyn glanced at him cautiously. “Personally?”

“Your choice, but yes.”

The other man nodded, looking out over the ruins below. “Better, I think. Being alone is easier. Sleeping is still hard, though.”

Ephrim echoed his nod. “The scouts speak highly of you.”

Maelgwyn smiled again. Ephrim always expected his smile to be bigger, with more teeth. “I just help them do their jobs.”

“You help a lot, and they appreciate it.”

Silence stretched out between them, tense, but in a normal, awkward way that Ephrim hadn’t experienced with Maelgwyn before.

After a while, though, Ephrim had to break the quiet. “I’m here because we’re interested in working with you and the scouts to survey the land around the University for a new structure.”

Maelgwyn raised an eyebrow. “A new structure? The Council wants to build something?”

Ephrim nodded. “A wall around the University. Something strong enough to hold back the Heat and the Dark.”

There was a split second where Maelgwyn fell into his old self, the start of a deflecting grin, shining eyes that hid incomprehension, but then he managed to allow himself to look a little worried. “With all due respect, the Heat and the Dark eats walls for breakfast. There’s no substance on Hieron that it wouldn’t consume.”

Ephrim nodded, letting out a breath. This was the way he was hoping the conversation would go. Calmly, he unwrapped the bindings around the stump of his wrist, watching Maelgwyn’s eyes widen as it revealed not the flat blackness of the Heat and the Dark, but something strange and white. “How about something not of Hieron, then?”

The other man was quiet for a moment, swallowed. “I’ve… I’ve seen that stuff before. What is it?”

“We call it Starstuff,” Ephrim explained, “Your father… Samot… created the Stars as a method to fight the Heat and the Dark, but… it seems like the project wasn’t quite finished.”

He watched Maelgwyn carefully as he spoke, and thankfully, he seemed to be reacting alright so far. “But this… whatever it is the Stars make, the Heat and the Dark can’t penetrate it. And, with a spell we have acquired, the mages can use the Starstuff to make a wall to protect the University and everyone living there.”

Ephrim looked Maelgwyn in the eye. “We just need you to help us find the best place to put it.”

Maelgwyn looked back at Ephrim, then down for a long moment, but then he took in a breath, looked up, and put out a hand. When he smiled, it was weak, but it was real. “Let’s build a wall.”

At that, Ephrim couldn’t help but smile back a little bit. This Maelgwyn really did feel different from the one he met before. Ephrim wasn’t sure he trusted him any closer, yet, but he could at least work with him, for now. And right then, that’s what they needed.

Smiling, he clasped Maelgwyn’s hand, squeezed it. “I’m glad you could join us.”

  


_Ephrim, Alyosha & Maelgwyn _

 

After a while, it was rare for the three of them to be in the same room together. Ephrim was spending more and more time with the Council, Alyosha worked with Rosana in the new chapel, and Maelgwyn was now hard at work with scouts and mages surveying the land around the University for the best place to build a Wall. Alyosha and Ephrim were still sharing a room, sometimes a bed, but words and touches felt fleeting.

But then it was High Sun Day again, somehow, despite everything that had happened to Hieron (to the Sun _alone_ , even). Rosana and Alyosha hosted the festivities, of course, and though Alyosha promised Ephrim that he would understand if he didn’t attend, the bright and hopeful look in the priest’s eyes was impossible to resist.

Alyosha never asked why Ephrim had removed the holy symbol from his armor, and Ephrim didn’t ask Alyosha why he kept his. For one who was starting to become known as the King-Charioteer, a Prophet without a god, Alyosha’s quiet acceptance gave Ephrim a measure of peace that he couldn’t find elsewhere. Because of Alyosha, Ephrim could go to the old hall, supported and patched with rough-hewn wood and draped with threadbare tapestries, and truly celebrate the Longest Day instead of merely attending as he was expected to. Ephrim may have flinched a little whenever his former Lord’s name was spoken, but Rosana’s words were full of strength and Alyosha’s full of kindness and comfort, and Ephrim could see why their congregations were steadily growing. He clearly had something to learn from them about leadership.

So many of the traditions and rituals that Ephrim used to do almost automatically seemed so different from each angle. He sang and danced and just the shift of a thought made him feel sour and uncomfortable or warm and joyful. It was strange, heady, and Ephrim wasn’t sure he liked it, but he didn’t _dislike_ it, either. He took a chance pulling Maelgwyn, amicable in conversation but clearly eyeing the floor, into a fast, whirling number, and it paid off spectacularly. The other man was clearly well-practiced, actually challenging Ephrim’s skills, taking his leads into wild flourishes across the hall. Ephrim was sweating and grinning by the end of it, and Maelgwyn looked positively radiant. After that, he left Ephrim to dance with several other partners until he finally exhausted himself towards the end of the night. Ephrim danced once with Alyosha, too, this new affection he held for the priest seeming to spark off of every step and turn. It was brief, because Alyosha tired easily, but it was easily his favourite part of the night.

In the end, Alyosha, Maelgwyn, and Ephrim found themselves together in Maelgwyn’s new room, swaying and leaning on each other sleepily. Maelgwyn was the one who dropped off first, laying on his one ragged couch with his head in Alyosha’s lap. Alyosha pet his head, smiling up at Ephrim where he was sitting on the arm of the couch. Celebrations could be heard still ongoing through the University, but in the room, it was quiet. Peaceful.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Alyosha finally said, quietly.

Ephrim caught Alyosha’s other hand with his. “I’m glad I went. It was good.”

Alyosha nodded, closed his eyes. “I don’t think this year was more or less joyful than the others… But, I felt it differently. Perhaps I needed it as much as I believe everyone with us needed it.”

Ephrim smiled a little. “It’s good. I… I don’t know. It’s good. You know.”

Alyosha lifted their hands so he could muffle a chuckle in his sleeve, and the fondness in his look after was almost unbearable to Ephrim. “I know what you mean,” he said.

Ephrim had to lift their hands a second time, this time to stifle a yawn. “I don’t want to walk all the way back to our wing,” he whined quietly.

Alyosha glanced at Maelgwyn, asleep in his lap, then Maelgwyn’s bed, before giving Ephrim a cautious look. “Did you…”

Ephrim frowned, looking down at the man who had no small part in everything wrong with his life at that moment. But… there was a lot of good at that particular moment, as well.

And, he was extremely tired.

With a slightly dramatic sigh, Ephrim stood up. “I’ll help you get him up.”

In the end, it was a very cramped night on Maelgwyn’s bed, but it was perfectly comfortably warm, and Ephrim would never fault himself for seeking it out, just for one night.


End file.
